Circle Game
“Circle Game A Sibyl Below my windowin the darkeningbackyard the childrenplay at waramong the flowerbeds on my shelves the bottlesaccumulate my sibyl (every womanshould have one) has chosento live there thin green wine bottlesemptied of small dinnersovaltine jars, orange-brownemptied of easy sleep my sibyl crouchesin one of themwrinkled as a pickledbaby, twoheaded prodigyat a freakfairhairless, her sightlesseyes like eggwhites I stand lookingover the fading city she calls to me with the manyvoic...es of the childrennot I want to diebut You must dielater or sooner alasyou were born weren’t youthe minutes thunder like gunscoupling won’t help youor pluralityI see itI prophesy but she doesn’t reach me.Old spidersibyl, I’lluncork youlet in a little airor I’ll ignore you.MoreLess
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